


This was Easier When You Got an Invoice of Your Bad Decisions

by imperfectkreis



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Coercion, M/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectkreis/pseuds/imperfectkreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys and Jack have a conversation about their cohabitation. Well, more like Rhys stresses about how long it's going to last and Jack mocks him for his concern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This was Easier When You Got an Invoice of Your Bad Decisions

Rhys has to believe his mind is his own. He has to. Because the rest of him is a jumble of parts he’s picked out of a catalogue. Shiny and new, once, not now. Now he’s got Pandorian dirt between his joints and the planet’s air in his lungs. The surface is in his veins and he’s not sure he likes it. He didn’t ask for it. Not like his arm or his neurals. Those he bought and paid for.

But Rhys doesn’t think any of that changed him. Not in a fundamental way. He’s circuits of machinery but he’s still the kid who tried to fleece all of the neighbors out of their pocket money. ‘Investment in your future.’ He’s still the one who came out on top and nearly got that nice office with the spectacular view. Almost. He’ll still do anything, ANYTHING to get what he wants, what he deserves. 

And he’ll still manipulate, lie, steal. He’s still not a good person.

As the firewall closes down around him in Vasquez’s old desk, the desk that should have been his, Rhys wonders what has changed about him that he can’t quite beat the timer. But the answer is nothing. He was never as good as he lead people to believe. He was never as bad, either.

“Jack,” he says it outloud, though only under his breath. “Help me.”

Because there’s no shame in this. In using Jack as Jack uses him. He’s a meatcase (well, meat and motherboards) to carry Jack around. Jack’s a bunch of 1s and 0s that can get him past this firewall and to Gortys’ component. Then a vault. Then success. Rhys will have everything; and Jack will still need his ‘binder full of organs.’

Maybe.

Jack slows the world down for him. Jack moves faster than he can through the lines of the firewall. They break it up together, tearing down defenses while sitting on Rhys’ ass. He can taste the metal in his mouth. He can’t find a reason why he should be able. Jack shouldn’t taste like anything. Jack’s as tangible as this firewall, and not nearly as robust. 

“We’re a good team, kiddo. I’m going to make you great.”

Rhys wants to bite back that he already is great. He doesn’t need Jack for that. But he couldn’t do the hack on his own, not fast enough, at least. So he bites his tongue back instead, until there actually is blood in his mouth.

“You always gotta go and hurt my flesh-prison, don’t you?” Jack laughs.

“I’m not your flesh-prison.”

“You’re flesh, aren’t you?” Jack doesn’t bother with the hologram. He doesn’t have to. “And I’m stuck inside you.” He draws out the word ‘inside.’ Great, fucking great, the last thing Rhys needs is to get hard in his perfectly-tight pants before he’s gotta book it out of here. 

He checks in with Fiona, tells her that it’s all clear on his end. She’s good to go. She chirps back that’s great. Super. Everything she does comes wrapped in sarcastic paper, big fucking bow on top.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you Rhysie? What I’d do to you if I had a body. And I had your body too.”

“Shut up.” Rhys curls his fingers around the edge of the desk. It won’t yield. That’s sort of the point of doing it. But sometimes, like this time, Rhys wishes he could just tear everything apart, and start over.

But he doesn’t know for sure if his mind is his own. Or it’s some amalgamation that happens to be convenient, that’s going to let him get out of this on his own two feet. 

“We’ll find a solution. A way to get you out of me, without hurting either of us.”

Jack barks his laughter. He’s always laughing. “I’m way ahead of you, cupcake. Just wait until we get to my office.”

Rhys swallows the blood in his mouth. It’s not much. The taste of coins lingers.

“And I’m soooo sure that’s why you want me to jump ship. So neither one of us ‘gets hurt.’”

Freezing up, Rhys tries to close off that compartment of his mind. But it doesn’t work, and Jack mocks him about his long legs, his sharp tongue, and the way he whines at the back of his throat when he comes.


End file.
